


Savoring Victory

by evilwriter37



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Manipulation, Oral, Orgasm Denial, Sexual Coercion, Whump, blame Viggo, don't blame me, send me to niflheim, sexual whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 22:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12351873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Alternate ending to "Gold Rush." Viggo sees Hiccup as his prize, and he knows how to get exactly what he wants from him.





	Savoring Victory

**Author's Note:**

> Evilwriter back with another Dark Fic™! If you're not into this kind of stuff, obviously don't read it, and if you are into it, have fun with my sins!
> 
> Also, for anyone reading _Infernal Fascination_ , yes, I'm aware that it's been a month since I posted. I’ve just been really busy with college and my physical and mental health haven’t been the best. Also, for some reason I had motivation to write this but no motivation for chapter 54. Hopefully the motivation will reappear soon.

“Ryker, go keep an eye out for the other Dragon Riders. Wouldn’t want them to catch us by surprise, would we?” Viggo smiled as he said it, and though the expression wasn’t directed at Hiccup, it made his skin crawl. He glanced up at Ryker, wondering if he would obey him without protest. He found it a little odd that Viggo was in charge and not his older brother.

“But-”

“I’d like to have a _private_ conversation with Hiccup,” Viggo interrupted.

_Well that doesn’t sound good._

Hiccup shifted, tugged at his cuffs a little though he knew it was useless. He watched Ryker leave as he did this, and the sound of the door shutting served to make him realize how trapped he was. Steeling himself, he looked back to Viggo.

“Okay, so, what is it you want?” Hiccup figured he might as well be compliant. It didn’t look like he was getting out of here anytime soon.

“I was hoping we could come to some sort of agreement,” Viggo answered smoothly. “You see, I don’t really _want_ to kill you and your Riders.”

“So you’re saying you’ll let us go?” 

Viggo folded his hands on the table. “On a few… conditions.” 

“What kinds of conditions?” Hiccup asked nervously. He hadn’t liked the way he’d said that word.

“One: you and your Riders stop your attacks on my ships. Two-”

“No.”

Viggo drew himself up a little, looking stunned to have been interrupted. It was obviously something that didn’t happen to him. Hiccup just narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t want to hear me out first?”

“Not really interested, Viggo.”

“What if I could make it interesting? I never did say your friends would go quickly to their deaths, now did I?”

Viggo’s lips twitched into a smirk and Hiccup’s stomach bottomed out. 

“Y-you’re bluffing.”

“Come now, my dear Hiccup, would someone like me lie about these sorts of things?” Viggo asked, standing and sweeping around the desk. He leaned back on the front of it, folding his arms.

Hiccup inwardly cringed at the way Viggo had addressed him, but didn’t show any outward discomfort at it. His heart was racing faster than he would have liked to admit.

“Say I agree to your first condition,” Hiccup said, proud of himself for keeping his voice even. “What’s the second one?”

“Well, that one’s simple really. I only want you.”

Hiccup was taken aback by the answer. “ _What?_ ”

“Just this one time,” Viggo went on. He shrugged a little. “Consider it my prize.”

Hiccup hurriedly stood, took a few steps back from him. “Hold on, you mean, _I’m_ your prize?” he asked in absolute horror.

“Yes.”

“ _Why?_ ” Hiccup spat the word, disgusted and terrified by the very thought of what Viggo was suggesting. He was being vague, but at the same time, he couldn’t have stated it clearer.

“What? I’m not allowed to savor my victory?” Viggo asked almost innocently, straightening.

Hiccup took another step back, nearing the door. “Not with me you’re not.”

Viggo looked up and away from him, squinted, as if thinking. “What do you think of the uses of Changewing acid? You think your shorter Rider - Snotlout’s his name, correct? - would like it?”

A low growl of anger rose from Hiccup’s throat. “ _Viggo…_ ”

“Hm, and what about Astrid?” Viggo continued, leaning back on his hands. “What do you think? Spikes, maybe? At least to start off?”

“You won’t touch them!” Hiccup shouted, taking what he hoped was a menacing step forward.

Viggo pretended he hadn’t heard him. “And what about the twins? I suppose they’re a bit gangly, but dragons will probably enjoy them nonetheless once they’ve been skinned.”

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it! Just shut up!” 

Viggo looked back to him, smiled a little. “Alright, Hiccup. Come here then.” He beckoned to him with one hand.

Shaking with rage and terror, he somehow made himself step over to Viggo. He flinched as he reached out and cupped his cheek, turned his gaze away from him.

_Oh gods, how has my life come to this?_

“Relax, my dear,” Viggo said in what would have been a soothing manner coming from anyone else, stroking his thumb over his cheek. “I’ll do my best to be gentle.”

“Oh, just shut up and get it over with!” Hiccup snapped, pulling his head back.

“But that would just take the fun out of it.” He ran a hand over the leather armor on his chest, then ventured lower. Hiccup turned his head away and bit his lip as Viggo squeezed gently at his manhood through his pants. The touch made his skin crawl and his stomach do flips, but he didn’t move. He’d let Viggo do this if it meant protecting his friends.

“If I uncuff you, will you try to attack me or run?”

Hiccup shook his head, though he very much wanted to try to escape if Viggo really was going to uncuff him. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this on his own. Besides, Toothless was on a separate ship. All he could do was hope that Dagur, Heather, and Fishlegs would find a way to rescue him soon. Very soon. In the next minute would be preferable. 

“Good.” Viggo withdrew from him, and Hiccup released a relieved breath at the loss of contact. He watched as Viggo went over to his desk and picked up a key, then turned back to him.

“Why are you uncuffing me?” His mouth was dry, his voice coming out quieter than he’d meant it to.

Viggo came over to him and Hiccup wanted to back away, but instead he held up his wrists. Viggo spoke as he inserted the key in the lock:

“Because I want you to undress for me. And I usually prefer my partner’s hands to be bound behind them instead of in front.”

Hiccup swallowed back bile that rose in his throat. He blinked tears out of his eyes, beginning to tremble slightly. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him.

He should have felt relieved when Viggo removed the cuffs from his wrists, but instead the feeling of sickness inside of him grew. He wanted to cry, to scream. This couldn’t _actually_ be happening to him. His chest and throat ached with pent up sobs, and the unpleasant heat of panic overtook him, even as dread bred ice into his stomach.

“Now undress,” Viggo ordered, taking a step back, “unless you want me tearing your clothes off of you, which would undoubtedly damage them beyond being able to wear again.”

Hiccup just nodded a little in understanding. He wanted to have something to wear after this. With clumsy, shaking fingers, he began to undress, starting with the belt around his waist. The sound of it dropping to the floor sent a shiver crawling through him. Then next was his leather armor. He didn’t look at Viggo as each piece was added to the growing pile on the floor, just trying to focus on what he was doing. Tears fell against his will, but he didn’t pause to wipe them away.

He stopped as he grabbed at the hem of his tunic. Taking off his armor hadn’t been that difficult, but actually baring skin to Viggo seemed impossible to do.

“I’m waiting, Hiccup.”

_Fuck you._ Hiccup wanted to say this out loud, but didn’t know what kind of consequence he would have to face if he did, so he just gritted his teeth and hurriedly pulled his tunic over his head. He glanced at Viggo, found him staring with a satisfied smirk. He felt violated by his gaze.

Hiccup had to hop a little on his prosthetic to stay balanced as he pulled off his boot. He usually took that off while sitting down. He placed his boot down next to his clothes. Now he only had his pants. He tried to make himself move to take them off, but he couldn’t do it, frozen with his shoulders hunched and his head lowered. A sob crawled up his throat and he couldn’t keep it in no matter how hard he tried.

“Don’t cry, my dear.” Viggo stepped over to him, and Hiccup suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe, his presence overbearing, crushing him. He flinched as his hands went to his waist, the feeling of them on his bare skin foreign. “There’s nothing bad about sex, is there?”

“I don’t want it,” he said forcefully, surprised by the strength in his voice.

“But you can’t deny me, Hiccup.” Large fingers stroked up and down over his sides. “Your Riders will pay if you do, if you fight me.”

That sparked Hiccup into action. Not thinking about what he was doing, he abruptly yanked down his pants. Viggo backed away a little to give him room to bend and bring them down all the way before kicking them off. Then Hiccup stiffly straightened, clenching his hands into fists. His breaths came in heaving, terrified gasps.

Viggo hummed in what sounded like approval, the sound making Hiccup shrink back a little and hunch his shoulders to make himself seem smaller. His hands went to cover his front.

“No, no, don’t cover that,” Viggo quickly admonished, grabbing at his wrists. Hiccup had no choice but to let him pull them away. He closed his eyes as he did so. “No hiding anything from me.” He could feel his gaze on his cock, and gooseflesh rippled over his skin. “Mm, you’re quite well-endowed, aren’t you?”

_Shut up._

“Have any of your Riders enjoyed your cock?”

Hiccup didn’t think he’d be able to speak. He shook his head.

“Really? Not even Astrid?”

He shook his head again. He wanted Viggo to stop speaking, to just take him and get it over with, but at the same time, he wanted him to continue. He was closer to being rescued with each second that passed, and with Viggo taking his time about it, maybe he wouldn’t even get to have him.

“So you’re a virgin then,” Viggo concluded. “The only touch you’ve felt is your own.” As he said this, he released one of his wrists, that hand instead going to grasp at his cock. Hiccup tightened his lips, held back a despairing whimper. Though, he couldn’t manage to keep it down as Viggo began stroking him. He didn’t want him to touch him there. He’d never felt so violated before, so mortified - he just wanted to die. “I apologize for being your first.”

“Y-you don’t have to be my first,” Hiccup stammered out. Maybe he could reason with him. “You d-don’t have to d-do this.”

“Don’t I? I _want_ to. What’s stopping me from taking you?”

“E-ever heard of morals?”

Viggo chuckled, and Hiccup felt like he could breathe again as he pulled away from him. His cock, steadily and traitorously growing erect, mourned the loss of contact. Hiccup hated himself for it.

“Turn around, Hiccup, and put your hands behind your back.”

Hiccup did so without protest, placing his shaking hands behind him. Then Viggo was looming over him, pressing himself against him. The metal cuffs closed around his wrists once again. The spikes on Viggo’s belt dug uncomfortably into his arms and his lips brushed his ear, his breath hot against his skin.

“Oh, I do love it when my partners are restrained.” His voice had lowered, taken on a lustful tone. His hands went to his hips.

_I’m not your partner. I’m your victim._

“You look beautiful like this,” he continued. “Helpless, vulnerable.” His voice was practically a purr. “All mine.”

Hiccup sobbed a little. More wanted to follow, but he clamped his mouth shut over them, making a choking noise instead. Viggo probably liked that.

His hands trailed curiously over the front of his body, over his abdomen and thighs, tracing toned muscle. Hiccup felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“I see most of your strength is in your core,” Viggo commented. “Makes sense with all that dragon riding.” His fingers danced lightly over his torso, creating a pleasant tingle that Hiccup didn’t want. “I bet it has made your ass nice and tight as well.”

Hiccup made an irritated and frightened grunting sound, incapable of words. He wanted Viggo to be quiet, to keep his commentary on his body to himself. It just added to the feeling of violation, driving home the fact that he was being looked at and touched, appraised, in a way, as if he was some animal meant to be sold.

He gasped a little as Viggo pinched and twisted his right nipple, the action sending sparks through him and a pleasure into his groin. Then his other hand was grasping at his length, stroking, and that part of him liked it. He groaned, utterly confused by the sensations. Why was his body enjoying this when it was the last thing he wanted?

_Stop, stop. Please stop._ He couldn’t make the words come out of his mouth. He couldn’t beg to him. That would only lower himself further.

“Do you know if you’re loud, Hiccup?” Viggo breathed into his ear. Teeth nipped at him and he whimpered. His cheeks were wet with tears that flowed freely now, that he couldn’t hope to restrain. He was trembling almost violently, and part of him wondered how he was still standing. He’d never been so terrified in his life.

“N-no,” he somehow managed to get out. He felt suffocated by Viggo, by his breath on him, his voice in his ear, his caressing hands, his body pressed against his back. He was in a cage made of him, and there was no way out.

“I suppose we’ll find out then.” His fingers trailed up to his face, brushing over his lips. “Here. Suck on my fingers.”

“ _Why?_ ” Hiccup couldn’t help questioning. He hadn’t meant for the word to come out as a moan, but what Viggo was doing to his cock felt excellent. He hated it like he’d never hated anything else.

“Well, this would be much easier with lubricant, and seeing as I don’t have any with me, we’ll have to use what nature provides us with,” Viggo explained. “Now open your mouth.” 

Hiccup did as he was told, and Viggo slipped two fingers inside. He held down the sudden urge to bawl hysterically and instead began sucking.

“That’s it,” Viggo praised. He pumped his cock faster and Hiccup moaned around his fingers. He didn’t understand why his body was enjoying this. Why did it seem to want this when in his mind he so clearly didn’t? Why couldn’t it understand that this was unwanted? “Do you like what I’m doing to you?”

Hiccup tried to make a sound of negation around the fingers in his mouth. A sob tried fighting its way out of him, chest heaving.

“Sh, Hiccup. I’m not hurting you.” Viggo’s voice was quiet, an attempt at soothing him. His strokes over his length had slowed. He withdrew his fingers from his mouth, leaving Hiccup to inhale shuddering breaths and hoping each one would be his last.

He cringed as Viggo rubbed a spit-coated finger over his hole. He hadn’t been expecting that, didn’t really know how something like this worked between men. He hated that he was about to find out.

The tip of one finger circled his rim before slipping inside. Hiccup gasped and tensed at the invasion, muscles clenching down around the finger.

“Oh gods, please stop.” He hadn’t meant for it to slip out, but he didn’t feel like he could take this anymore. It was all too much.

“But I’m only now getting to the really good part,” Viggo told him. He rubbed his thumb over his slit and Hiccup let out a breathless moan. “Just relax and this won’t hurt.”

Hiccup laughed at him. Or maybe he cried. He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that Viggo telling him to relax was by far the strangest thing he’d heard all week, which was saying something given who he spent his time with.

Viggo’s mouth went to the side of his neck, making his hair stand on end. His beard was a strange contrast to the softness of his lips.

“Relax, Hiccup,” he breathed against his skin. 

“N-no. Stop it! Please stop it!” He tugged at the cuffs, squirmed a little. He just wanted to be free of his touch, of his presence and his breath on his neck. Was that too much to ask for?

“Does Snotlout have a high-pitched scream?” Viggo rumbled against his neck as if he was saying something seductive. “I’m sure we’d find out with the acid, wouldn’t we?” He worked his finger inside of him, shoving it deeper, and it burned. Hiccup let out a pained whimper. 

“ _Stop_.”

“Thinking of your Riders, your _friends_ in pain isn’t enough for you? How about this? Instead of doing this to you, I do it to Astrid.” He inserted a second finger and Hiccup yelped at the pain of it. “And you’d get to watch.”

“No, no.” He frantically shook his head. He didn’t want this, but he’d rather take it than have it happen to anyone else, to have it happen to _Astrid._

“Don’t like that idea, do you?” 

Hiccup groaned, shook his head. “I-I’ll cooperate. I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll do what you want.” He felt a sudden burst of courage, but it was soon weighed down by shame and desperation. It was like his very essence, his _will_ was crumbling.

He gasped as Viggo’s fingers suddenly left him, instead going to grasp at his hip. He was stroking him fiercely now, and Hiccup’s legs shook with the pleasure of it. It felt different to have someone else touching him here; better, somehow. He hated it, but he let himself moan anyway. He had wanted to hold back any sounds, but there was no winning in this situation. He’d already lost, and he was about to lose again.

“Then cum for me,” Viggo breathed into his ear. 

In a matter of seconds Hiccup was doing just that. A combination of terror and shame and burning pleasure nearly knocked him over, but Viggo wrapped his arm around his waist to keep him standing. He shouted, tossed his head. He wanted to scream as the fire raced through his nerves, as Viggo was handed yet another victory - and he wanted to keep screaming, never stop. Instead he clenched his jaw and released moans through gritted teeth. The pleasure reached its absolute peak, danced across the border into white-hot agony. 

And then Viggo released him. Hiccup collapsed to the floor on his knees, panting, trying to reorient himself. He was trembling violently, the last traces of pleasure shuddering through his nerves.

A hand trailed over his back before moving into his hair and gripping it tight. His head was wrenched upwards and he was forced to meet Viggo’s gaze. Tears stained his vision.

“That felt good, didn’t it?” His grip loosened, and instead he was stroking his hair… _petting_ him. “It certainly looked like it did.”

“Shut. Up.”

Viggo very suddenly slapped him, hard enough to knock him down to the floor. He laid there for a moment, stunned by the blow, right cheek burning.

“Get on your knees.”

Hiccup tried maneuvering himself, but he was in a bad position to do so, especially with his hands trapped behind him.

“I-I can’t.”

Then Viggo’s hand was in his hair and he dragged him upwards by it, creating an awful stinging in his scalp. He cried out, almost attempted to shake himself free from his grip before he remembered why he was doing this. He couldn’t let anything bad happen to his friends.

Viggo let go of him, and Hiccup kept his head down, staring at the floor. He burned wherever Viggo’s eyes touched him. 

“You look absolutely ravishing like this,” he commented. Hiccup tightened his lips at his words, at the sound of him removing his armor and most of his clothing. He placed the items on the desk. Hiccup could tell that he kept his pants on, but that didn’t matter much. Then Viggo came close to him, ran a hand through his hair, over his face. He shut his eyes as he took him by the jaw and made him lift his head. His shaking hadn’t ebbed. He knew what he wanted from him.

Viggo tilted Hiccup’s head back. “Open your mouth.”

He didn’t want to, but he had to. For his friends. He opened his mouth, twisted his features in disgust when something hot and thick went past his lips.

“Mm, _lovely_. If I had known threatening your friends would make you this compliant I would have done this to you a long time ago.” His hand went back to his hair, holding him in place. “I’ll go slow, as I’m assuming you’ve never had a cock in your throat before.”

Hiccup tried to take deep breaths through his nose, to quell his panic. Once again he was struck with utter disbelief that such a thing was happening to him.

Viggo moved his hips steadily forward, pressing into him, stretching his jaw. He was huge, which made sense given his general size, but this wasn’t something Hiccup had ever wanted to know, and he especially hadn’t wanted to learn of it so intimately. He made a despairing whining sound in his throat and Viggo breathed a quiet moan.

Hiccup gagged as he went further, hoping Viggo would stop his advance to let him grow adjusted, but he didn’t. He choked, struggling with himself to not bite him.

“Relax your throat, my dear.” His other hand stroked over his face. “Breathe through your nose. It takes practice but you’re doing splendidly.”

Hiccup’s tears released again. He didn’t want this. He hated the feeling of Viggo’s cock in his mouth and throat, wanted to be rid of it, but still, he tried to do as he said. It was difficult, but in a few moments his throat stopped its convulsions and accepted the invasion.

“There we go,” Viggo crooned. “Ah, I regret saying I would only have you this one time. I might have to go back on my word. You’re an absolute _pleasure_.”

_Does he want me to bite him?_ Hiccup questioned as his anger surged up.

“Oh and you’d make such a beautiful slave.” He pulled back, giving Hiccup a slight moment of relief, but then thrusted forward, successfully causing him to choke again. He couldn’t hope to keep his throat relaxed as Viggo continued his movements. “Your body would be all mine, there for the taking whenever I wanted it.”

Hiccup wanted to scream at him, to yell that such a thing would never happen, to tell him that he was sick and twisted, a monster, but he could do nothing but try to endure the pounding in his throat that was steadily growing painful.

“Though, I’m getting ahead-” gasp- “of myself - aren’t I? We’re not - done yet.”

Hiccup hated that he used “we.” It made it sound like this was consensual, like he wanted this and was perfectly fine with it happening. It took all his willpower not to bite him.

Hiccup lost himself to despair as Viggo assaulted his mouth and throat. It hurt quite badly, and he was wondering if any damage was being done internally. He kept forgetting to breathe through his nose, then eventually forgot how to even _do_ it. He hoped he would faint.

Viggo pulled away from him, released his hold on his face and hair. Hiccup lowered his head, gulping in air, choking. He was relieved that that was over, but at the same time, he knew something worse was coming.

_Oh gods, Fishlegs, Heather, please hurry up and think of something. Or Dagur. I don’t even care if it’s Dagur._ There had been times where he was sure Dagur had wanted the same thing from him that Viggo now did, and he wasn’t entirely certain that he didn’t want that even now, but he didn’t care if it was Dagur who ran in and found him like this. If anything, if it wasn’t care that Dagur had for him, his jealousy towards Viggo would end up saving him. Jealousy would make Dagur kill.

_But what if he kills Viggo and just does the same thing instead of rescuing me? No, that’s stupid. He wouldn’t. Not with anyone else around. Fishlegs and Heather will be with him. But what if…?_

Hiccup was broken from his thoughts by two hands taking him under the arms and pulling him up till he was standing. 

“You’re going to bend over the desk for me.” Viggo ran his hands over his torso, not seeming to care about the cum on his stomach. He then took him by the waist and turned him around. A hand pressed into his back, and Hiccup complied, laying his front down on the desk. “Now spread your legs.” 

Hiccup sobbed as he did it, wasn’t sure how he even made himself move. Viggo’s hands caressed over his ass. It felt like he burned wherever he touched him. He shouldn’t be touching him like this. Why did he feel the need to do this to him?

He jerked as two of Viggo’s fingers prodded at his hole. 

“Don’t,” he gasped out. It felt like his chest was constricting. His voice was hoarse. He tried to lift himself up, but Viggo’s other hand went to the back of his neck to hold him down.

“Astrid must be a beauty naked,” Viggo said. His fingers breached him, the stretch burning, and Hiccup gasped, tried twisting himself free. “And her cunt would be lovely, wouldn’t it? I’d have to fight to get between her legs, but it would be worth it. She’d be screaming for you to help her.”

“Stop.”

“And you’ll know the whole time that you could have prevented it.”

Hiccup pulled in a shaking breath, somehow forced his body to go slack. The sensation of Viggo’s fingers inside of him didn’t hurt so much when he did.

“I-I won’t fight.”

“You’ll be yelling for me to stop and I won’t.”

“Viggo, _please_.” With that one word, Hiccup suddenly realized why he’d kept talking. He wanted him to beg to him. He could do it if it meant he’d stop fantasizing about raping Astrid in front of him. “P-please.” It came out weakly and he swallowed, wet his lips, decided to try again. “Please.”

His fingers went deeper and instead of further discomfort he felt pleasure, deep and intense.

“ _Ahh…_ ”

Viggo hummed a little, crooked his fingers. He was pressing on something inside of him and by the gods did it feel good. Hiccup gave a small cry, surprised by this. 

“You see, Hiccup, us men have a special spot inside of us that can cause the most intense pleasure you’ll ever feel,” Viggo explained. “Or pain, if the one stimulating it so chooses.” He suddenly pressed hard into it to demonstrate, and pain broke into the pleasure. Hiccup moaned and squirmed. Luckily, the pain didn’t last, Viggo’s touch once again going back to being gentle. He sobbed in confusion. He didn’t want this, didn’t want any of it. It didn’t matter if it hurt or if it felt good: it was all awful. 

“Keep begging to me,” Viggo ordered. “Unless you want me to get more detailed about what I’ll be doing to Astrid.”

“Oh gods, please!” The words came out loudly, quickly. He’d do anything Viggo wanted if it meant saving Astrid from something similar. He even arched into his massaging fingers. “Please, please, please!”

A third finger entered him and his muscles contracted. He had to school them back into a relaxed state. “Please, Viggo, _please_ ,” he moaned.

“Please what?” There was a satisfied note in his voice.

“P-please fuck me.” Hiccup couldn’t believe he’d said it, that he actually had to.

“Mm, afraid I didn’t quite catch that.”

Hiccup’s cheeks burned. He hated him, very suddenly and very intensely. It made his blood boil with anger, but he couldn’t do anything with it. He would just have to leave it simmering inside of him until he had a chance to act upon it.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” he moaned out. “Please. I-I need you to. Please.”

“Louder.” He pressed much too hard at that spot again, and so Hiccup’s rise in volume was also due to pain.

“Fuck me! Ple-ease!”

Viggo released a sigh that was all theatrics, withdrawing his fingers. “Fine. If you insist.”

Hiccup tensed as he felt the head of Viggo’s cock against his entrance, slick with his own saliva. He forced himself into him, and his muscles instantly clamped down before he could go very far.

“Hiccup, you have to let me in, my dear.” He ran a hand over his bound arms, making his hair rise. “Unless you want me to do it by force and tear you, which would be highly unpleasant for you, to put it lightly.”

Trembling, Hiccup inhaled deeply through his mouth, tried making himself go slack. He focused on his breathing, on the way his muscles felt around Viggo’s cock. They loosened and the pain lessened.

“There you go, Hiccup.” He moved into him slowly, stretching him, filling him. He moaned in a mix of discomfort and despair. He’d never felt anything like this before and he could easily say that he hated it. To have another man inside of him against his wishes, to have _Viggo_ inside of him, made him want to die. He pleaded with his heart to just stop its rapid beating.

Viggo’s hands went to his hips as he was fully sheathed inside of him. His length pressed incessantly against that pleasure spot and he felt himself growing aroused again despite how much he hated all of this. Hiccup cursed his body, wanted to separate from it and be free from its betrayal. He couldn’t help it: he wailed.

“Darling, it’s alright. It’s supposed to feel good.” 

“Don’t - want it,” Hiccup gasped. Viggo began moving and he grunted, sobbed. “Don’t - stop.”

“Don’t stop?” Viggo chuckled. “No problem there.” His strokes were steady and deep, slow for the time being, maddening. 

“ _No_. Not what I-I mea- _Ah-ha…_ ” 

Viggo groaned, tightened his grip. “By Odin, you are _tight_. Don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of someone as tight as you before. _Ooh_.”

Hiccup wished that he wouldn’t speak, that he wouldn’t make his pleasure known to him. The reminder that his body was being used in such a way just made it worse. He wanted to block his ears.

He gave a cry as Viggo’s pace quickened, his movements growing fierce. The friction burned, but it didn’t feel all bad, his cock rubbing over that pleasure spot and occasionally pounding right into it. He couldn’t keep quiet, his voice leaking into every breath. His own cock was erect and craving attention.

Viggo actually laughed. “I guess you are rather loud, aren’t you?”

_Shut up. Just shut the Hel up._ He didn’t dare say this out loud though. He couldn’t risk it when he was so vulnerable. And what was worse, he might start talking about Astrid again.

Hiccup realized he didn’t want to be rescued at the moment. He didn’t want any of his friends to rush in and find him bent over Viggo’s desk and at his mercy, moaning like he was enjoying this, his manhood hard and leaking precum. He thought he felt shame now, but the shame he would feel at that would surely be enough to kill him. Before he had prayed for rescue, but now he prayed for them to wait, to just wait until Viggo finished with him and he wasn’t in such a compromising position.

“I bet my men can hear what I’m doing to you,” Viggo said breathlessly over his exclamations of pleasure and discomfort. The words made Hiccup choke on a sob. He didn’t want anyone to hear this, didn’t want anyone to know what was happening to him. This was just between him and Viggo. “They must be jealous. You do sound lovely. Maybe I’ll let them all take you, one after the other, and I’ll sit and watch.”

“ _No-o!_ ” Hiccup couldn’t help screaming it. The idea made his stomach lurch, made him want to start fighting him again. “No, please! _Please!_ ”

Viggo gave a deep, throaty laugh. “I’m only jesting, my dear Hiccup.” He spoke between gasps and grunts. “I couldn’t - possibly consider sharing you. I’m quite - selfish, you see. Want you all - to myself.”

Hiccup cried hard at this, dread sinking into his bones. Viggo’s words made him worry that he’d never be rescued, that this wouldn’t be the only time he had his way with him, that he would be doomed to have repeats of this, or something even worse.

Viggo’s crazed thrusts slowed to something that was almost soothing. The pleasure overtook him in steady waves instead of slamming into his nerves. “Sh, darling, it’s alright. It’s alright.” His right hand snaked under him, took ahold of his length and pumped it in time with his movements. Hiccup moaned long and loud at the added sensation. 

“Yes, that’s it,” Viggo breathed. “Mmm… moan just like that.”

Hiccup had no choice but to obey, even as his tears kept flowing. He was surprised he had any left at this point.

“Know that you are not allowed to cum unless I give you permission.”

“Wh-why?”

“I find it’s more fun that way.”

“Wh-what happens if I do- _ohh…_ ”

“Some form of punishment will befall you.” There was a smirk in his words.

Hiccup’s gut twisted. How was he supposed to hold back an orgasm when everything felt so good? That was probably the point. Viggo wanted him to cum without permission so he could hurt him for it. 

_Sick bastard._

“Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” Viggo corrected. 

There was no way in Hel Hiccup was calling him that. He wouldn’t give in to all his fantasies.

“Fuck you.”

His response was rewarded with a hard slap to his rear. He jerked and yelped, and before he’d recovered from it it came again. And again. Viggo was now squeezing at his cock instead of stroking, and his thrusts regained their ferocity, his manhood burning inside of him. Hiccup writhed under him, whimpering and whining, wanting the pain to stop. He’d never felt so pathetic before.

“I’d think before speaking, Hiccup,” Viggo told him breathlessly. “You’re at my mercy. Now apologize.”

“S-sorry.”

“Sorry _what?_ ” Viggo growled out, leaning over him, mouth close to his ear. His grip on his cock tightened and Hiccup yelped.

“Sir! Sorry, sir!”

“That’s better.”

Hiccup heaved out a relieved breath as he let go of his length, hand going to rest on the desk beside him. His other dug nails into his hip. Teeth tugged at his ear. 

“ _Gods_ , Hiccup.” He felt Viggo’s lips tug into a smile, followed by a breathy laugh. “I almost - can’t believe - I’m finally having you like this.” He moaned into his ear and it made Hiccup want to kill him. He gritted his teeth in anger, grunted, trying to keep in any noises. He wouldn’t give him any more satisfaction than he already was.

Hiccup attempted to withdraw into himself as the assault continued. It was difficult with the way sensation was being mercilessly pounded into him, pleasure and pain prancing drunkenly through his nerves. He had his eyes squeezed shut, just begging for it to stop.

Time passed. It felt like forever, but it had probably only been a minute, maybe more… maybe an eternity. Viggo trailed his hands over his sides, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

“Are you going to cum soon or do I need to touch your cock?”

Hiccup whimpered. “ _Don’t_.” He didn’t want to climax again by Viggo’s hand. But still, despite his protest, he felt his hand slipping underneath him, fingers stroking and squeezing. He groaned, tried shifting away from him but there was nowhere to go. He was all around him, trapping him. He wanted to tell him to stop, to keep protesting, but it would get him nowhere, and it hadn’t thus far.

After a moment or two he felt the first sparks of his orgasm building, pressure gathering in his groin and the base of his spine.

“Can I- Can I cum?” he gasped out, in disbelief that he even had to ask such a thing.

“No.”

“But I - please!” He clenched the muscles in his stomach in an attempt to hold it back.

“Not yet, Hiccup. Just a little longer.”

His next moan was born of distress. Every inch of him was alight with pleasure, and it just grew with each second that he denied his climax.

“Oh gods! Please, please!”

“Not - yet.” 

Hiccup writhed underneath Viggo, wishing to escape the fire that was consuming him. “I can’t, I can’t! _Please!_ ”

“ _No_.”

Hiccup screamed out of pure pleasure and desperation. One more slam into that strange sweet spot inside of him and he was finished, and so he screamed again as he finally crested the wave of his climax. He shook with the intensity of it, toes curling, hands tightening into fists. His muscles spasmed around Viggo, his cock twitching in his hand as his seed was released in violent spurts. The overwhelming amount of sensation drew tears from his eyes and more shouts from his throat, shattered his mind into nothingness.

He came back to himself shaking and panting, and it took him a moment or two to realize that Viggo was no longer inside of him, no longer _raping_ him, and that there was a hot liquid dripping out from his abused hole. Then he realized that there was a hand on his back holding him down, and that the hum he was hearing was actually a voice.

_I must have blacked out._

“Hiccup, must I repeat myself?” There was a hint of annoyance in Viggo’s voice, and fear clutched at his chest. He hadn’t given him permission to climax.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I tried!” He struggled against that hand, but it pressed down harder, no doubt leaving bruises. “Please! You got what you wanted from me!”

Viggo didn’t say anything. Hiccup tensed as he felt his body against his again. His right hand caressed over his thigh.

“ _Please_.” Hiccup didn’t know what he was going to do to him, but he knew that he didn’t want it, knew that it was going to hurt.

And it did. He was suddenly clutching his cock and pumping it rapidly, and Hiccup was shot through with a level of agony he’d never felt before. He shrieked, twisted his head, tugged at his cuffs.

“Stop! Please stop!”

A few more seconds - or maybe a few more years - of the anguish and Viggo stilled his hand. Hiccup was sobbing now. He just wanted him to stop touching him, to just _let go._

“Apologize,” Viggo ordered.

“I-I-I already ap-apologized,” Hiccup stammered. “Pl-please. Let me go!”

“Have I made you sorry?” He stroked his hand slowly up, then back down, and Hiccup yelled at the pain of it.

“Yes, yes! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I said I was sorry! _Ple-ea-ease!_ ”

“Mm, just a little more. I like watching you writhe like that.”

And Viggo went back to tormenting him, to making Hiccup wish he’d never even been born.

After what felt like an eternity, he stopped touching him altogether. Hiccup sobbed, gasped for breath. For a moment Viggo said nothing, eyes raking over his still-shaking body. He wanted to stand, but couldn’t make himself, too weak to even attempt it.

The man _laughed_. “You look absolutely ruined.” He reached for the clothes that were beside Hiccup on the desk, and still, he couldn’t move. “I’m very glad I was able to get this from you. That condition of mine was good, was it not?”

“Y-you know it wasn’t, so j-just shut up.”

“But it saved your friends. You’d do it again to save them, wouldn’t you?”

Something inside of Hiccup crumbled. He would if it ever came to it again - he knew he would - but at the moment, he didn’t know how he’d be able to handle it. Still, he said weakly: “Yes.”

“Good. Very good.” Viggo must have finished dressing, because then one of his hands was running over his back. The other was bolder, fingers prodding at his rim, which he could sense had swelled. The contact hurt and he inhaled sharply. He feared another invasion, but then that touch was gone. “Surprised I didn’t tear you.” 

“L-let me go.” Hiccup tried to sound demanding, but his voice was weak. “Y-you’re conditions were met, so let m-me and my friends g-go.”

A disappointed sigh. “I should stay true to my word, shouldn’t I? But at the same time, I don’t _want_ to.”

“But you said you’d-!”

Hiccup’s shout was interrupted by a boom that shook the ship. Viggo stumbled away from him, and he slid from the desk, tried getting his footing once the surface was no longer supporting him, but instead crashed onto the floor on his side. He narrowly avoided biting his tongue, teeth slamming hard into each other and sparking a pain into his skull.

“Your friends have such _loyalty_.” Viggo said the word with distaste. And then he was gone, striding from the room. The door slammed behind him, there was another boom, and the ship rocked again, sliding Hiccup into the wall. He grunted, scrambled to get his foot and his prosthetic underneath him, but his movements did nothing but tire him out. He was still shaking from the whole ordeal. He nearly began to panic, but schooled himself into relative calm. His friends wouldn’t sink the ship. They knew he was on it. They would come for him.

_But then they’ll see me like this._

That struck a new horror into him, a dread that flooded his veins with heat in one instant and then plunged him into cold in the next. They’d _see_ him. They’d _know_. There would be no hiding what Viggo had done to him, what he’d _let_ him do to him.

_But I had to! I had to! I did it to save them!_

That knowledge didn’t help much. It didn’t keep Hiccup from panicking and feeling like his throat was closing up. They’d see him naked and bound and ruined. They’d see how Viggo had touched him, the evidence of it forming in aching bruises around his hips. They’d see how he’d fallen apart under his fingers, how his own seed stained the front of his body. Even worse, they’d see the completion of Viggo’s pleasure dripping down the backs of his thighs. They’d see _everything._

_Oh gods, they’ll hate me. They’ll hate me for it. They won’t understand._

Then Hiccup was hit with a new thought that felt like a punch to the stomach. What if Viggo had lied to him? What if he hadn’t been going to hurt his friends if he didn’t comply? What if he’d just used it to get what he wanted and he was a fool for giving in?

The ship rocked again, knocking him against the wall, but he didn’t care. He was beginning to hope that his friends would sink it, that they’d forget about him and just leave him to die. The dark depths of the sea seemed like a better option than going home.

_Oh no, what am I gonna tell my dad?_ Hiccup wanted to cry, but tears wouldn’t come. He didn’t have any left.

“Hiccup?!”

His muscles seized up in panic at the sound of Astrid’s voice from somewhere beyond the door. He couldn’t bring himself to respond, despair stealing his voice.

The door was flung open and Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for her reaction, for her disgust. His shoulders shook with a sob, though there were no tears to accompany it. 

There was a gasp, followed by a moment or two of silence. Then running footsteps, a hand on his shoulder that he tried and failed to shrug off. The last thing he wanted was to be touched.

“Hiccup! Oh gods, what’d he do to you?!” Her hands ran over him, checking for injury, and though the touch was out of care it made him squirm.

“Stop! Don’t touch me!” Hiccup shouted. Luckily, Astrid drew her hands away. Some part of him had thought that she wouldn’t, had begun to wonder if those words actually meant anything. How could any word of negation actually mean anything if they hadn’t worked?

He wanted to say something else, but didn’t know what. All that came from his mouth were harsh breaths that were too quick, yet it somehow felt like he wasn’t breathing. He felt cold, terribly cold, and his chest ached. She was _seeing_ him. She was seeing him naked and ruined and defeated. 

“Hiccup, are you hurt?” Astrid asked urgently. She sounded on the verge of panic. She had asked what had happened, but she must have known already. It was all too obvious.

He tried to speak but it was like he’d forgotten how to use his voice. Unsure of how to answer properly, he just nodded. His heart pounded and chills racked his body.

“Where?”

How was he supposed to answer that? He couldn’t just tell her _where_ he hurt, that there was pain _inside_ of him, that his cock was hurting. Those weren’t things you _told_ people.

Instead he answered: “Ev-ev-everywhere.” That wasn’t a lie. There was a pain, a deeper pain that he didn’t understand, a pain that wasn’t physical. It felt like it was tearing him to pieces. He wished it actually was, that he wouldn’t take his next breath, and the one after that. “J-j-just leave m-me. P-please. L-leave me.”

“Hiccup, I’m not leaving you!” Astrid sounded shocked that he’d even suggested it. He could hear her moving around, and then she crouched by him again, took ahold of his wrists. He nearly pulled away but then realized that she was unlocking the cuffs. When they fell away he brought his hands in front of him, hugged his knees to his chest. “Why would I do that?”

“B-because you know. Y-you _know_ what he d-did.”

Familiar arms wrapped around him, pulled him up till he was sitting with his body resting against her chest. Part of him wanted to struggle away from her, but another, dominating part craved the contact and the comfort that she would bring, even though he didn’t feel like he deserved it.

“That’s _why_ I’m not leaving you.”

“I-I had to, Astrid. I had to.” 

“Hiccup, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain.” Her voice was soft.

Hiccup went on, shaking in her arms. He _did_ have to explain. “H-he was g-going to h-hurt you. S-said he’d d-do it to y-you instead. I-I couldn’t- couldn’t l-let him. I c-couldn’t. I h-had to let him.”

There was a moment of silence, Astrid taking in what he’d said. “Hiccup-” she said his name in a tortured way- “you didn’t have to do that.”

Hiccup frantically shook his head. “I-I did. I couldn’t l-let him h-hurt any o-of you.”

Astrid didn’t protest this time, which Hiccup was grateful for. He’d had to let him do it. He’d _had_ to. And now because he had Astrid was safe. Astrid was holding him in her arms.

“I-is everyone else o-okay?”

“They’re okay, Hiccup. No one was hurt.”

“G-good.” He inhaled deeply, trying to stop his shaking. That knowledge calmed him immensely. Maybe giving himself up like this had been worth it. His friends were safe because of him, and now he was safe too. Safe in Astrid’s arms. If he hadn’t done it she wouldn’t be here holding him right now. He had to keep telling himself that, had to keep reminding himself of what Viggo would have done, because if he didn’t he’d hate himself. Maybe he already did.

But it had been worth it. His friends were safe.

“Th-that’s what matters. All that matters.”


End file.
